


For enemies

by franzyao



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Smut, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Gay Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Horny Harry Potter, Legilimens, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Secret Relationship, Top/Bottom Versatile Draco Malfoy, Top/Bottom Versatile Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franzyao/pseuds/franzyao
Summary: This is a Half Blood Prince compliant in which Harry and Draco have some spicy times behind the scenes of JKR’s unfolding plot. I rewrite key Drarry interactions within the book/movie — like the Hogwarts Express compartment and Myrtle bathroom scenes — but with sexy/tense backstories. There is a story, but it's really to set the stage for the sexual tension/dynamic that's the focus. I try to be as true to the characters and plot as possible (knowing that some timelines and details are wrong), but also encapsulate the angsty teen vibes of discovering queer sex and flirting with non-monogamy.Edit: Now that I've written the last two chapters, I feel like the story is important after all and not just the sex (There's barely any smut at the end). I didn't know where I was going with Draco's redemption, but I really feel for him now that I'm done. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for a continued arc into Deathly Hallows!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 150





	1. The Compartment

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a long-time HP fan but this is my first attempt at fanfic, so I super appreciate your patience and feedback :) 
> 
> Some caveats: Most of this is smut/erotica between 16 year-olds (age of consent in Britain but not everywhere), so please only read if you’re comfortable. I'm also writing about sex with M-to-M-genitalia without having had it myself, so I’m sorry for obvious mistakes. I completely forgot about lube in the first few chapters, for instance.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Didn’t Mummy ever tell you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Draco snapped, pointing his wand at Harry, fearing that Harry would sense the uncertainty in his face. 

Harry just stared. All these years, Draco had dreamed of cornering Harry Potter — the famous Harry Potter — and making a fool of him. Yet, there he was, looking pathetically at Draco’s mercy, and neither moved an inch. 

“My mum, as you know, was dead before I could speak.” 

Draco locked eyes with Harry, and, seeing the tender expression on Harry’s face, began to lower his wand.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered as he crashed down into his seat with his head resting in his hands. “I can’t do anything right. I’m nothing compared to you. My own mother can’t help me now.” 

Positively alarmed, Harry climbed down from the luggage rack and stared at his enemy. Was this feeling arising at the bottom of his stomach pity, or…? 

“Malfoy…” Harry started cautiously. “What is it exactly that your mother can’t help you with?” 

Draco continued sobbing. 

“It’s just that…” Harry continued, pushing his nerve beyond his limits. “Er...I mean... could help you...you know, if you’d like,” Harry added sheepishly. 

This seemed to awaken Draco to his senses, who once again resumed a stone-cold expression on his face. “ _You?_ Harry Potter? Help me?” He sputtered. “What a laughable idea. How could you possibly understand?” 

“I do understand,” Harry responded kindly, his chest swelling. “I understand what it’s like to have the world expected of you when you just want to live your life like a normal teenanger. To have everyone you’ve ever loved be in constant danger and feel like it’s your fault. To be so alone you can’t even confide in your closest friends. To have a task ahead that’s so great, so important that…” 

Midway through his rant, now panting, Harry caught a glimpse of Draco. Draco was looking at Harry as though he’d never seen anything quite like it before in his life. 

Harry gulped. His heart rate quickened. This look... he thought. He’d seen it before. Just a year ago, Cho had..But...it can’t be. Draco hates me, and I hate him. 

_I hate him_ , a voice in Harry’s head echoed and clutched to these words. That’s why I haven’t stopped thinking about him all summer, why I followed him down Knockturn Alley and panicked when I lost sight of him, why I’m still here talking to him...to thwart his no-doubt evil plans, as I’ve always done. 

“Look Potter,” Draco finally responded, his gaze firmly intact. “Harry.” He softened, his voice daring him to go on. “There are certain things even the Chosen One wouldn’t be able to handle.” 

Voice full of sadness, but without the usual snarky contempt even at calling Harry the “Chosen One,” Draco continued. “Look, you have to kill a man who you hate, who you have every reason to seek revenge against. And I...” — Harry couldn’t believe his words — “Well, let’s just say my circumstances are different.” 

Draco’s face hardened back to the loathing look Harry was far more used to. “We’d better get going.” He stood up to leave. 

“Wait, Malfoy!” Harry couldn’t help himself. “Draco.” 

His voice steadied. “Come here,” said someone in Harry’s head that he did not comprehend as himself. “Sit down. Talk to me.” 

Draco hesitated. Looking at the blazened expression on his oldest rival’s face, he felt a flutter below. He was suddenly filled with a deep desire to grab Harry. Did he dare? 

“Harry, I…” Draco returned, sweating now. He was getting closer and closer. 

Sitting down next to Harry, he put his hand on Harry’s leg and then removed it immediately as though daring Harry to protest. 

Harry felt his entire body turn hot, as though engulfed in flames. Without another moment's thought, he grabbed Draco’s hand in his own and whispered, “It’s okay...It’s...okay.” 

Draco broke. With a swift motion, he pulled Harry by the robes and embraced him in a long, hard kiss. His body thrashed in desire as he let his hands roam freely around Harry’s face, hair, and chest. 

Not missing a beat, Harry ripped off his own and Draco’s robes and unbuckled Draco’s belt. Warmth greeted his hands as Draco thrashed under his touch. He had never felt anything so magnificent in his life. 

“Put your mouth on it,” Draco smirked. “Unless you’re scared, Potter.” 

The sneer on Draco’s face and sudden reintroduction of Harry’s last name caused his insides to roar. 

“Shut it Malfoy, I’ll do what I want,” Harry teased back, while flipping Draco on his backside and kissing him down the back while continuing to stroke his groin. 

“Ahhhhhh,” Draco moaned, clutching the compartment door. 

Fully erect now—more so than ever before—Harry entered the maze of indescribable bliss that was Draco Malfoy. 

“Oh my Goood,” Draco yelled, his eyes rolling over. 

Somehow, Harry knew just what to do. He craned down and thrust his weight into the boy he had convinced himself he hated for six years, his hands quickening strokes and tuning them to the movement of his hips. A wild drive erupted in Harry, edging him along, growing bolder and braver by the minute.

Pulling Draco up by the hair, he whispered. “Luckily for you, what I want, more than anything...is exactly this.” Draco sighed. 

The two lovers moaned and groaned until they felt like their backs had broken. It seemed as though an eternity, but also just mere seconds, had passed when they finally allowed each other the peak satisfaction they so wildly craved. It was a magnificent culmination of their six years of back-and-forth tension. They got dressed in silence. 

“Not a word about this to anybody, Potter,” Draco spluttered, with the all-too-familiar hatred reinstated in his voice. 

Harry’s heart sunk. Of course this was just going to be a one-time thing. 

Draco got up swiftly to leave, but stopped himself briefly before exiting the compartment. He glanced at Harry and grinned, “Meet you in the Room of Requirement at 7 tomorrow. Don’t be late.” 

Before Harry could respond, Draco was gone. Dumbfounded, he headed up to the castle, alone.


	2. The Room

“Hi…”

Harry joined Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and took a big gulp from the goblet in front of him. 

“Where have you been, Harry? We’ve been worried sick,” Hermione demanded. 

“Oh...er...got held back on the train. You know,” he took another gulp. “Fight with Malfoy.” 

“What a prat,” Ron was quick to respond. “What happened this time?” 

Harry snuck a glance at the Slytherin table to try and catch Draco’s eye, but to no avail. 

“He caught me eavesdropping on his conversation with the Slytherins. Saw my foot slip from the cloak.” He gave them a knowing look. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Harry, won’t you drop it?” Hermione snapped. “You have absolutely no evidence that Malfoy is a Death Eater and you can’t just go sneaking around listening to his conversations. You’ll only get yourself into trouble. Remus said…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry replied, barely listening. Draco had still not given him a glance back. 

~  
On the other side of the Great Hall, Draco was bragging about cornering Harry to Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. 

“Finally got him,” Draco smirked. “Knew it would happen one day.” 

“Did you hex him, Draco?” Pansy asked, leaning over, her eyes full of desire. “He doesn’t look hexxed,” she continued disapprovingly after giving Harry a once-over.

“Some hexxes don’t leave visible marks,” Draco responded ominously. “Let’s just say he won’t ever be the same again.” 

~  
The next day, Harry couldn’t focus on his professors if they’d hit him in the face. He glanced furtively at a clock every three minutes, counting down the agonizing seconds until seven o’clock. 

Once or twice, he thought he caught Draco looking at him, but besides that, the rivals continued their mean banter as usual. 

“Potter, your potion looks like it came from a puking pastille. You know Weasel products are banned, right?” Draco spat at Harry, with a convincingly disgusted look on his face. _Was this all a trap?_ Harry wondered. 

At 6:30, Harry announced to Ron and Hermione that he had to go to the library. 

“But, it’s the first day back,” Hermione commented confusedly. “Even I’m not at the library yet. What’s gotten into...”

Before she could finish, Harry had already started sprinting towards the 5th floor tapestry. 

“I need somewhere private for me and Draco to...be together,” he thought with all his might. A door appeared. He entered. 

~  
Draco glanced up from what appeared to be a stack of 100 cushions. 

“You’re early,” he said, looking as menacing as can be. “Sit.” 

Harry obliged, though skeptically. 

“Potter, you’re a real idiot you know,” Draco finally broke the seemingly eternal silence. 

Harry’s stomach clenched. Of course, this was all a joke. 

“Do you realize how hard it’s been for me to pretend I hated you for all these years?” 

Harry’s stomach loosened. 

“Well, I do hate you, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to rip your clothes off,” Draco said with a wide grin entering his face. Pulling Harry towards him, Draco whispered, “C’mere.” 

The loosened clench in Harry’s stomach erupted into butterflies. He could barely respond before Draco had kissed him — with fuller force than before — pinning him down on the cushion bed setup he had made. 

“The famous Harry Potter,” Draco teased, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Look at you now. Not so tough anymore, eh?” 

Harry grinned. “Why don’t you shut up and suck my dick?” 

Laughing, Draco obliged. 

~  
Harry tasted deliciously. Playing with his tip with tongue circles and the occasional hand stroke, Draco couldn’t believe his luck. _It's finally happening,_ Draco thought, _and it's beyond my wildest dreams._

As he saw Harry’s eyes widen and heard his moans deepen, Draco quickened his pace — coordinating his mouth and hand so that their motions collided. 

“Fuck...that...feels...so...good,” Harry panted between breaths. “Don’t...fucking...stop... _ahhh._ ” 

“Or what? Gonna jinx me?” Draco retorted. He slowed down, taking his time deliberately, but did not loosen his grip. 

“No, but I might flip you over and fuck your brains out,” Harry replied through gritted teeth. 

Draco’s body danced with enthusiasm at these words. “Come and get it, if you dare,” he winked. 

Without missing a beat, Harry wrestled Draco to the ground and held down his arms. He took a long, hard look at his gorgeous enemy — _How had he never noticed how blue Draco's eyes were?_ — before plunging deeply within. 

So turned on by Draco’s blowjob, he reached climax within minutes. 

“Ah...ah...ah...AHHH!” 

Harry’s screams echoed around the Room as he jerked himself to completion, his liquids landing brightly on Draco’s chest. Yet his mission was not complete. 

“Your turn,” Harry grinned while diving below Draco’s legs. With his hands firmly pressing Draco down, he went in with his mouth. 

Draco went wild. 

“Oh...my...God...holy...shit...gonna...cum... _fuck, Potter...yes..._ "

“My last name turn you on, does it?” Harry retorted, jamming his finger into Draco. 

The pressure of Harry’s finger and his mouth bobbing up and down were almost too much. With one look into Harry’s piercing green eyes — full of passion and lust for him, Draco, he couldn’t take it — he felt himself release. 

“FUUUUUCKK!!!” 

Draco’s body thrashed and squirmed until it was satisfied. He grabbed Harry’s head in his hands and pulled up his face. 

“Fuck,” he repeated. 

“I know, right?” Harry replied. 

The two made eye contact for no more than a split second when Draco turned away and, again, got dressed at lightning speed. And, again, his whole demeanor changed, settling back into the cool meanness that characterized Draco Malfoy. 

Harry didn’t know what to make of this. 

“Same time tomorrow then?” Draco muttered as he got up and left without another word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” Harry replied, his insides still filled with longing. “If I can wait that long,” he muttered to himself as Draco saw himself out.


	3. The Cabinet

Seven o’clock quickly became Harry’s favorite time of day. The other hours seemed to serve the sole purpose of counting down until seven. He often found himself filling them with day dreams of recent love-making sessions with Draco. 

He was sitting with Ron and Hermione in the common room, attempting to finish his Transfiguration essay, when Hermione interrupted his reliving of a particularly fond time a few days ago. Draco was clutching onto Harry’s hair, leaned over on a pile of books, his face scrunched up in that adorable expression he made whenever he neared climax — 

“Harry, what has gotten into you? Have you even _tried_ to talk to Slughorn this week?” Hermione demanded. 

Harry’s heart sunk. Of course, he had to talk to Slughorn for Dumbledore and had forgotten all about it. Dumbledore…

The look on Draco’s face when Harry was about to come was nearly as good. So full of satisfaction, joy, _pride_ at how he could make Harry feel. _I'll wipe that smirk off his face_ , Harry thought smugly. _I know all the secrets of his body, the git can’t hide anything._

“Harry!” Hermione looked really angry now. 

“Er...yeah, Hermione, sorry. I was just daydreaming about...er…my last date with Cho. Reckon I really messed that one up,” Harry tried with all his might to force a look of remorse onto his face. “I’ll talk to Slughorn tomorrow.”

Utterly unconvinced, Hermione muttered something about knowing Harry was up to something, if he couldn’t just _focus_ , “obsessed with Draco Malfoy these days, he’s _not_ a Death Eater”... “only 16”... “get on with it”…

Of course, Hermione didn’t know just how right she was. Harry was quickly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy.

~  
Draco Malfoy had just received some bad news. It hurt him to pieces to think about the letter his mother had sent him the day before.

_Draco,_

__

_I don’t have much time but I had to write. I couldn’t convince him. I’m so sorry._

__

_Your father is calling your name in his sleep. Family in danger. Severus has sworn to help. Don’t delay any longer._

__

_Mom_

Draco scrunched the letter into a ball and stopped himself from crying. It was nearly seven. He stormed to the Room of Requirement and fucked Harry like he hadn’t ever before, letting his anger and revulsion at his task ahead drive his body to dominate in a way he didn’t know was possible.

He could barely utter the word “tomorrow” before leaving without another word. 

Truthfully, his nights with Harry had been the only thing keeping Draco from crying himself to sleep. He grew increasingly distant from his friends, not able to confide in them, and was filled with nothing but dread for what lie ahead. 

~  
Harry was getting fed up at Draco not talking to him. He thought, after three months of being together nearly every night — his insides would squirm when Draco would say “Can’t tomorrow, day after” — that Draco would loosen up. 

Harry wasn’t expecting a relationship or even friendship with Draco — this is _Malfoy_ we’re talking about — but he couldn’t help that Draco’s hot-and-cold interactions were leaving him with an empty feeling in his stomach. 

One time, on a day when Draco had postponed their meeting — _what_ he could be doing that’s more important, Harry didn’t know — Harry was so full of desire and frustration at not knowing what was on his lover’s mind that he had to take some time to himself. He glared at Draco on his way out of the classroom, who glared back without hesitation, and headed straight for Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn’t be there. 

The coast was clear. Harry zipped down his pants and opened the Marauder’s Map. At times when he missed Draco so much his body ached, he would find a private spot, stare at Draco’s dot on the map, and pleasure himself while replaying glorious scenes in his head. 

Harry grabbed his dick and thought of the warmth of Draco’s hand on it, how good it felt. He concentrated his eyes on the dot that said “Draco Malfoy” standing still in the classroom Harry had just left, probably looking smug at some thing or another. _Why did he always refuse to acknowledge me, even in private, or meet any other time than seven at the Room?_ Harry thought frustratedly. 

Fueled by the combination of anger and desire Harry had become used to, his strokes quickened. _You drive me fucking crazy, Malfoy. Fuck you. God I want to fuck you._ Harry thought as he ejaculated, still focused on the dot. In the seconds after he stared at the ceiling in the peak moment of his ecstasy, Harry’s eyes returned to the map to give one last look at the dot. Only, it was gone…

 _It can’t be_ , Harry thought. _The Marauder’s Map never lies._

Panicking, Harry looked around until he located Draco’s dot on the 5th floor, next to...It can’t be… _What is he doing there now? Meeting another lover, perhaps?_ Sure enough, he saw Draco’s dot disappear into the secret Room of Requirement — _their_ secret. 

Filled with rage, Harry got up and ran to the Room.

~  
“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you doing here? Are you following me?” Draco scowled, hiding his wand and hoping beyond hope that Harry didn’t see what he was just doing. He had just been attempting, once again to no avail, to repair the vanishing cabinet.

He prayed Harry didn’t sense the fear in his voice. How could he be so stupid, to think it romantic to fuck in the same Room of Hidden Things setup as where his cabinet was? He never imagined Harry would come here at any other time…

“Er...I just noticed, that, er, you weren’t in class,” Harry replied pathetically. “What are you doing here? Is there...Is anyone else here?” 

Draco thought he could laugh with relief. He wiped his tears furtively onto his sleeve before turning around. Harry wasn’t onto his plan, after all. 

“Anyone else? Who I’m fucking, you mean? You think I’d take all my lovers to the same place?” Draco smirked. “C’mere.” His expression softened. 

Harry wanted with all his being to respond to the familiar call. He could already feel himself getting hard again. _Goddamnit, what is it with this guy?_ But he stopped himself.  


“Malfoy...Draco…,” his heartbeat steadied. “Tell me what you were doing here first.”

“Just reliving one of our recent adventures,” Draco replied with a shrug, not missing a beat. “Needed somewhere private. Can’t have too much jizz in Myrtle’s bathroom, or she’ll think it’s about her.” 

Harry looked at his lover with a piercing stare. His hair was so perfectly messy, Harry longed to grab it. 

“I don’t believe you,” he said, though it took all his determination. “What’s that behind you?”

 _Fuck_ , thought Draco. He pointed to the vanishing cabinet. Could his plan work…?

“Oh this? Thought it might be fun,” Draco dared himself to say, moving closer to Harry. Pulling Harry by the wrist, he kissed him. “Get in, won’t you?” 

Not believing his ears, Harry entered the cabinet, dragging Draco along. Before he knew it, they were enveloped together and sparks flew. The rumbling of the cabinet was only punctured by their moans and “Fuck”s. 

After they finished this time, Harry didn’t let Draco leave. “Not so fast,” Harry said determinedly. “Sit your smug arse down and talk to me.” 

Sighing, Draco obliged.


	4. The Plan

“You were crying. I saw you crying,” Harry finally said. 

Draco hesitated, but obligated. “Look, Harry, I know you’re trying to help, but you can’t. No one can help me.”

“I’m not stupid you know,” Harry responded. “I know Voldemort gave you a mission.”

Draco flinched at the use of his master’s name, though he shuddered to think he was answering to such a man — if man were even the right word for it.

Draco thought long and hard before continuing, making sure he maintained direct eye contact for what he was about to say.

“What the Dark Lord wants me to do is none of your business. Stay out of it.”

Looking into Draco’s eyes, Harry understood. Voldemort was, after all, the world’s greatest Legilimens. If Draco said any more, Voldemort would know.

Catching on now, Harry continued, “So, you’ve learned to block out certain things, like sex and...well, that. But —“

“I can’t lie to him,” Draco finished, relief coursing through his body. “That’s why I haven’t stopped to chat, if you haven’t noticed. It’s too dangerous.”

Harry felt a surge of sympathy for his long-time enemy. How awful it would be to live his life knowing Voldemort was watching nearly every action, he couldn’t imagine.

In a tender act, Harry took Draco’s head and placed it on his own shoulder, stroking his head as he did so.

“You don’t have to listen to him, you know,” Harry chose his words carefully. “We could protect you. Our side, I mean. The Order. Dumbledore.”

For a split second, it seemed as though Draco was tempted. Then, removing himself from Harry’s shoulder, he sputtered, “Go to Dumbledore? I can’t do that. He’ll kill me and my whole family! I’m not supposed to see Dumbledore unless...until...” Draco gazed off into the distance. “Can’t we just drop it?” He added pleadingly.

Harry was losing his understanding now. “Oh, to have Voldemort murder your whole family and try to kill you too? Couldn’t imagine what that must be like. Life’s really hard sometimes isn’t it?” He remarked sarcastically. _Typical Malfoy, playing the victim._

Harry expected a snarky retort back, but to his surprise and slight horror, Draco laid down across his lap and grabbed his hand.

“I’m not brave like you, Harry. I’m so scared. These past few months with you...I’ve been living a fantasy. But I can’t anymore. I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” Harry answered, his voice softer now. Stroking Draco’s hair with his hand and looking down at his helpless expression, Harry understood what he had to do.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what you’re doing,” Harry continued, his voice gaining confidence. “But let me help you. I’ll help you in ways he won’t find out,” Harry added before Draco could protest.

“What you can do is make feeble attempts at your mission that you know will fail but will keep Voldemort thinking that you’re trying. Whatever than ‘until’ was in what you said about Dumbledore, that’s when you’ll next see Dumbledore right? When that moment comes, confide in him. Tell him what you’ve told me, and tell him that I trust you. He’ll take care of you, and your family — I promise.”

Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry as he gave this heroic speech. _How very classic of Potter to do such a thing._

“I’m so attracted to you right now,” Draco purred, pulling Harry’s head down to meet his lips. A now familiar tingling sensation ran down his body as the lovers met. “Luckily, your dick is right here,” Draco said as he moved to unzip Harry’s pants once more.

“So you’ll do it then, great,” Harry uttered before being engulfed by his own moans. He looked down once more at Draco, now busy with his hands and mouth with a characteristically determined expression which existed solely to pleasure Harry, and felt his body shake.

“Three orgasms within the span of a few hours, goddammit Malfoy,” Harry looked incredulously at Draco, who looked absolutely amazed at this accomplishment.

“Still on for tonight then?” Draco smirked, knowing full well that there were just a few more hours until seven. “Haven’t got my share yet,” he added.

“Oh you’ll get it alright,” Harry smiled, drawing Draco in for a long kiss. Not daring to bring up his plan again, he hoped the kiss would reaffirm how much trust Harry put into Draco to make the right choice.

Grateful that Harry didn’t mention it again, Draco ominously said, “Keep fucking me like you do, Harry, and I may surprise you. Crazy how much sex can do for one’s nerve.”

Before Harry could respond, he was gone again.


	5. The Mistake

The next several weeks with Draco were among the best they’ve ever had. Harry had to stop himself from grinning at random times of the day, though he was able to focus more on his schoolwork and Dumbledore’s task. Knowing he could help Draco out of his situation was igniting him with a new sense of drive.

His happiness did not go unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who attributed it to breakthroughs Harry had in Dumbledore’s lessons. Dumbledore himself, who saw Harry panting into his office once or twice at eight, was ever more amused.

“Did you run here, Harry?” Dumbledore had said during a lesson last Thursday, after a particularly steamy love-making session with Draco. “You needn’t have. A few minutes’ tardiness would be fine,” he added, his eyes twinkling with understanding.

“Er...yes, sir,” Harry replied. Building up his own courage, he continued, “Sir, I have something to tell you. About Malfoy.”

Dumbledore looked into Harry’s eyes. “Go on.”

“Malfoy, er...” Harry continued, reveling in the taste of his lover’s name on his tongue and trying his hardest to quash his erection. He had just had the most orgasm in his life ramming Draco against the outside of the vanishing cabinet with his hands tied up in some rope they had found lying around. Concentrating with all his might on Ron’s Aunt Muriel, Harry forced himself to continue. “Malfoy’s been given a mission by Voldemort, sir, I’m sure of it. And it involves you.”

“Harry, I will not ask you how you know this information,” Dumbledore responded kindly, his face not giving away whether he already knew — though Harry had an inkling that he did. “But I assure you that Professor Snape is handling it.”

“But, sir —“ Harry continued. “Does Snape — Er, Professor Snape — know that Draco, I mean Malfoy, Malfoy doesn’t really want to go through with it? I thought that might be important,” Harry added lamely.

“It is of utmost importance that Draco does not want to complete the task ahead, for your purposes and mine. We value our classmates’ characters after all,” — _Did Harry imagine a slightly misplaced emphasis on “classmates”?_ — “However, in terms of my and Professor Snape’s plans, it may not change anything.”

“Sir, are you sure...” Harry started.

“I trust Severus with my life, Harry. You — and Mr Malfoy — should too.”

~  
On the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, Draco was ready to execute the first step of his plan. _If Snape didn’t thwart him again_ , he added in his mind. No matter what Dumbledore or Harry might think, Draco knew the truth — that Snape was working for Voldemort and would stop at nothing to help Draco complete his mission. 

He went into the village, as usual, with fellow Slytherins, though he couldn’t help but daydream what it would be like to be fucking Harry inside the shrieking shack. _Too dangerous_ , he reminded himself. _What happens in the Room, I can block out. Don’t push it._

He was tempted when Harry gave him the same piercing look he did when they made love from across the room in the Three Broomsticks. However, as was usual when they were in public, he simply stared menacingly back. He hoped that the squirming of his insides were not visible to Pansy and the others.

“Draco, are you feeling alright? You’re clutching your stomach,” Pansy asked concernedly.

“Oh, I think I ate something bad,” Draco retorted, noticing a boner coming. “Bathroom.” On his way there, he made sure the other package was safely tucked in.

Making sure to bump into Harry on his way to the bathroom — “Ouch, watch it!” said Harry, but Draco knew it made him fire up — Draco continued on with his task. Filled with desire at the effect of his touch on Harry — _poor fucker probably had a boner now too_ — Draco pleasured himself. He imagined inviting Harry to fuck him in this bathroom, against this wall perhaps, crouched over that toilet seat. He let these glorious thoughts overtake him when he heard a noise outside —

“Who’s there?” He asked, hastily zipping his pants and fixing his hair in the mirror. In the hall outside the restrooms, waiting for the girls’, was Katie Bell. Draco gulped. Now was as good a time as any.

_Imperio._

“Katie, look, I need you to deliver this package to Dumbledore, sealed. Do NOT open it or touch it under any circumstances. Don’t let anyone else touch it or get near it. Dumbledore will know what it is and who it’s from. Do you understand? Don’t touch it.”

Katie nodded absentmindedly and returned to her seat. Draco sighed with relief and followed. Catching Harry’s eye on his way out, he felt courageous for what he had just done. _Hope that’s feeble enough for you_ , he thought.

~  
Harry was there when Katie Bell got cursed. He saw her fly into the air, her arms wide, her face looking as though it’d never see light again. _No_ , he thought desperately. _I did this. I did this to you._

While the others helped Katie back to the castle, Harry whipped out the map to see where Draco was — outside the Slytherin common room. He headed straight there, without a care for the consequences.

“Malfoy!” He yelled, when he saw a streak of blonde hair in front of him. “A word.”

Draco turned around, looking terrified. Composing himself, he retorted, “Are you following me now, Potter? What could you possibly want to say that can’t be said in the open? Scared of my friends, are you?” He mocked.

The Slytherins around him laughed. With one look at Harry’s face, Draco changed course.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he told his friends. “Think Potter is looking for a sequel to our little train adventure,” he smirked. The others patted his back, nodded their encouragement, and left obediently.

“So? Is it true? Are you looking for a sequel? Or rather, a 186th?”

“You kept count?” Harry couldn’t help himself before regaining his composure. “No, you git. You cursed Katie Bell. What the hell was that about? I thought you changed.” His anger stopped at his throat. 

The color in Draco’s face disappeared. “No...” he began. “No. She wasn’t supposed to touch it. She was supposed to just give it to him. He would’ve known. He wouldn’t have touched it.” Draco seemed panicked now. “Is she...is she alive?”

“Yes, but no thanks to you,” Harry glared. “Transferred to St Mungo’s.”

Draco looked like he was about to break down. “I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake. I’m not lying.” He prayed Harry would believe him.

“I believe you,” Harry responded, “Though I might change my mind if you fuck up again. Be less stupid, won’t you? Some of us are depending on it.” He felt his mouth and dick twitch simultaneously.

“Some of us,” Draco grinned, with a glance to Harry’s crotch. “Are gonna have to wait til tomorrow.” He winked.

It took Draco every ounce of determination in his body to make a smooth exit. _I have to keep him wanting it_ , he thought, though it took a lot not to pin Harry against the door to the Slytherin common room right then and there. _I have to control myself._

With a sigh, he returned to his dormitory and drew his blinds. There, at least, the great Harry Potter was to himself. He grunted and pulled down his pants again, fueling the intense look on Harry’s face when he said he believed him to pull himself to completion.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered to no one in particular.


	6. The Party

As the days blurred into weeks, lessons carried on, both Draco and Harry continued their respective secret missions, and each had less time for the other. Soon, their encounters were down to a few times a week. Still, Draco was learning to savor his nights with Harry as the one place he could escape from — well, everything. 

There is no question that Draco Malfoy had never hated anyone like he hated Harry Potter. Equally true was that he’d never tasted anything better. As he got to know Harry through snippets of conversations he sometimes allowed himself to have, he grappled with his increasingly confused feelings. Harry brought out the deepest of his insecurities and jealousies, but at the same time making him want to be valiant and bold — and believing that he could. 

On Christmas Eve, slouched in Harry’s arms after a particularly intense shag (though, let’s be honest, it was always intense when they were together), Draco decided — as he was doing more and more frequently nowadays — to let his guard down and talk.

“So who are you taking to Slughorn’s Christmas party then?” Draco asked with what he hoped would be an innocent voice, his body limp with exhaustion from their recent sexcapade. 

Harry, who had just had an intense series of orgasms from Draco’s insanely developed blowjob skills, barely heard him. “Huh? What? Christmas party?” 

“Oh, snap out of it, Potter,” Draco continued. “Are you taking Granger?” 

“Oh what? No,” Harry responded, bewildered. “I’m going with Luna actually. You know, as friends. What’s it to you anyway?” 

Draco gulped. “I was just wondering, you know, whether you’ve told people about me....about us.” He gulped again. 

“I mean, Ron and Hermione know I’ve been seeing — well, hooking up with — someone. But I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know the details.” Harry was quite honestly not sure where this was going.

“Er, yeah, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around, thanks,” Draco replied, clearly relaxed. “Are you seeing anyone else then?” 

“No problem, and same to you obviously,” Harry said. “I’m not, but I think I might be starting to have feelings for...Well, nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Aww, wee Potty’s got a crush? That’s adorable,” Draco said in a mocking voice. 

“Oh shut it,” Harry looked at Draco inquisitively. “And yourself?” He asked. 

“Me? I’m a Malfoy, Potter. I don’t have crushes. Have a couple of lovers here and there — _not_ in the Room of Requirement, okay, I know that’s _our_ spot — but it’s a solo life for me. Probably will have to enter an arranged marriage, though, if I survive the year.” He tried so hard to sound matter-of-fact. 

“What d’you mean, _if_ you survive —?” Harry started. 

“Careful, you’ll be late for your party!” Draco interrupted. “Unless you’re up for one last fuck as a warm-up for dear Luna.” _Nice_ , he thought to himself. _Saved it._

“I’m not satisfied with that answer one bit,” Harry answered. But with one look at Draco, he gave in. “Oh go on then, a quick one,” he grinned and unbuckled his belt again.

~  
Harry was in the middle of a mind-numbingly dumb conversation with McLaggen, replaying scenes from earlier and begging for release, when he heard the noise. Filch burst into the room holding onto the cuff of — 

Harry’s stomach dropped. It was Malfoy. 

_Fuck_ , he was caught, he thought. _It’s all my bloody fault._

Watching Draco get dragged out of the party by Snape of all people, Harry couldn’t help but follow. What were they playing at? Wasn’t Draco on his side now? Was Snape even on his side? 

_How could I have been so dumb?_ Harry thought. There were so many things he didn’t know.

Harry could barely breathe when he heard Snape telling Draco that the necklace had been a foolish mistake, that Snape could help Draco, that he had made the Unbreakable Vow...What did it all mean? 

~  
Draco stopped in his tracks when he realized he was being followed. He did not quite like the idea of explaining to anyone why he had been out late that night. He panicked, and the first excuse he could come up with was Slughorn’s Christmas party. Little did he know, he’d actually be dragged there, as though he had no dignity whatsoever, to be paraded in front of — oh god, _Potter_ would be there. 

Before he knew it, Snape had pinned him against a wall. Besides not trusting Snape himself, he had the sneaky feeling that he was being watched. If their roles were switched, surely, he would’ve followed Harry. Luckily, Draco knew to say just enough to put Snape off while not turning Harry against him. 

When Snape finally let go, Draco turned around at once to look for Harry. “I know you’re there, Potter,” he yelled into the air. 

Sure enough, Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak, his body shaking. “What the bloody hell was that?” He demanded. “How come Snape’s helping you? What are you up to that I don’t know about? What’s an Unbreakable Vow?” Draco had to admit, watching Harry’s chest heave for him like this was kind of touching. 

Draco simply looked at Harry. 

“Say something! For fuck’s sake, I want to help you!” Harry could barely control his voice. Using every inch of his body to calm himself down, he said as steadily as possible. “Just tell me one thing, and I’ll leave you alone, okay? Are you...are you in danger?” His eyes pierced Draco where it hurt. 

“No I’m not in _danger_ ,” Draco responded sarcastically. “The Dark Lord just wants me to go for an afternoon stroll with him and invite him for tea. _Danger?_ That’s hardly his style.” He rolled his eyes. Harry heaved in anger.

“But I’m touched,” Draco continued before he lost his nerve, not even sure himself how sarcastic he was being. “Since when do you actually care about my safety? I thought we were just fucking.” 

“I’m not _you_ , you git,” Harry responded. “I do have a heart, you know. We may not be friendly beyond our — er — _excursions_ , but I don’t want you to fucking _die_.” 

“There’s your dick talking again,” Draco said with a wink. “Bet no one can pleasure you like I do. I can only imagine how hard it would be for you if I died. Or, how _not_ hard, considering...” 

The way Draco was talking about his death so absentmindedly made Harry furious. His gloating face reminded Harry of all the taunts he had had to endure from _good-ol daddy’s boy Draco Malfoy_ over the years. Even though they had spent glorious nights together, even though he _knew_ Draco wasn’t all bad inside, even as he was standing here trying to help — Draco still wouldn’t let Harry get the best of him. Rage filled his whole being as he began to lunge — 

_Wait_ , Harry stopped himself. In the split second it took him to regain his composure, Draco’s eyes were filled with something other than taunting. _Was it fear? Shame?_ Harry thought. _Or simply desire?_

“When it comes to you and me, aren’t these things one and the same?” Draco responded, as though reading Harry’s mind. 

“Hey! Don’t do that,” Harry started shouting again. 

“Or else?” Draco teased as his eyes darted between Harry’s legs. “Gonna punish me? I dare you.” 

“Fucking hell,” Harry could only say before he was pushing Draco against the wall behind him — the same wall on which Snape had just threatened him — not even caring that they were in clear view, that anyone could walk by and see them. All Harry knew was that he wanted — he _needed_ Draco. 

Kissing and grabbing Draco fervently, who responded so enthusiastically that it almost pained him, Harry felt himself filled with a level of desire he had not before experienced. Looking straight into Draco’s eyes and pushing his full weight onto his enemy — no, lover — no, enemy — Harry hungered for what was to come. His adrenaline was fueled by anger, egged on by a longing so great he was nearly bursting. 

Draco shivered obediently under his touch, his body responding in all the right ways. Desperately thrashing against each other, thrusting so vigorously that there were flames between them, the enemy/lovers came in unison — pleasure filling every crevice of their bodies, which, though fully clothed, had never been so vulnerable with each other’s until now. 

Anyone walking by may not have even noticed that there were two people standing there. At that moment, in fact, they were one.


	7. The Poison

The fact that Harry Potter was sneaking around nearly every night to meet a secret lover became news soon enough. Harry had been expecting this to come up, and probably earlier, at that — he was, after all, the _famous_ Harry Potter — but that doesn’t mean it didn’t still hit him like a ton of bricks. 

“Oh Harry, won’t you tell me who you’re seeing? Please? I’m so curious,” Romilda Vane asked him for what he could’ve sworn was the thousandth time. 

“No, Romilda, for the last time, I’m not saying anything. Leave me alone, please, I’ve got work to do,” Harry was losing his patience. 

“Come on, I’d gladly join you know,” Romilda responded, her eyes seemingly swallowing Harry whole. Knowing that Romilda was only interested because of his fame, Harry didn’t even bother to respond. Instead, he walked away and directly to where Ron and Hermione were sitting. 

But he did not get the comfort he was desiring. “You won’t even tell us, will you, mate?” Ron demanded, clearly annoyed. “We’re supposed to be best friends, you know?” 

“Ronald, you’re so insensitive sometimes!” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “Okay, all the time,” she added. “If Harry doesn’t want people to know, he must have a good reason for it, don’t you Harry?” She gave him an all-too-familiar knowing look, which he found in equal parts comforting and annoying.

“Thank you Hermione,” he said with gritted teeth. 

“But you know, don’t you Hermione?” Ron pestered. “You know everything.” 

Harry thought he saw the faintest blush across Hermione’s cheek. “I have my guesses, sure, but that doesn’t matter. Anyway, it’s not like they’ve defined anything, right Harry? Also, aren’t you going to ask out Ginny?” 

“Yeah, what about my sister?” Ron grasped onto this point.

Harry gulped. He had been afraid of this. Yes, he did want to ask out Ginny, but he did not want to stop seeing Draco. Somehow, the two didn’t seem mutually exclusive to him. He liked them in such different ways, and he knew Draco would be fine with it — the prat basically _bragged_ about all _his_ other lovers. He only wondered how Ginny would take it. 

Ignoring the question, Harry began speculating as to what it was Dumbledore wanted him to get out of Slughorn. Only by changing the subject to Dumbledore could Harry successfully distract the other two. Sure enough, they fell for it, and the trio ended up discussing Dumbledore’s potential plots and plans until dawn. 

~  
The next night did not go nearly so smoothly. Harry felt his stomach clench — a now sickeningly familiar feeling — as he hazily recounted the day’s events. He had just missed his appointment with Malfoy for the first time — the _git_ , he thought, pushing any guilt out of his head. That would be dealt with later.

“Romilda, of course, Romilda Vane,” Ron had purringly told him that morning in a disgustingly sweet voice almost unrecognizable as his own. 

Harry had never seen Ron in this state before. It had taken him a few moments to realize that Ron had eaten a stupid chocolate Romilda had given Harry, imbued with a fucking love potion. If there were _one thing_ Romilda could’ve done to make me never want to go for her, Harry thought, it was this. As much as Draco had his faults, he would _never_ do such a pathetic thing, Harry remembered thinking soon afterwards. 

Almost instantly, Harry had taken Ron to see Slughorn. Then, just as Ron was awaking, just as they were about to share a laugh over the ridiculous occurrence that had befallen them, just as he was about to drink from a bottle Slughorn had poured them…

Ron had nearly died. _He nearly fucking died._ Harry thought, anger welling up inside him again. _My best friend. Dead._ Harry couldn’t bear the idea. And it was all stupid fucking Draco fucking Malfoy’s fault. 

The spell had broken. All he wanted to do was hurt Malfoy and wipe that dirty smirk off his stupid face. _How_ — he thought — _can anyone_ — he tried to calm himself, to no avail — _be so fucking dumb?_ Unless Malfoy had _wanted_ to poison Ron, had _wanted_ to kill someone.

Then, realization dawned. Malfoy was supposed to kill someone. Not curse them, not capture them and hand them to Voldemort, kill them. He obviously had not tried very hard, as he’d promised Harry, but his slip-ups...his mistakes... _RON HAD NEARLY FUCKING DIED._

~  
Meanwhile, Draco was quite pleased with himself. He had now successfully gotten Snape off his tail, revealed his true plan to his mother, and made substantial progress on the Vanishing Cabinet. Soon enough, his mother would come and join him, they would go to Dumbledore together, and this would all be over. His father was safely in Azkaban, and there was no one else in the world Draco cared about so Voldemort would not have anything to use. Except — 

Harry Potter was sprinting at him from across the Great Hall. Sprinting, as though he, Draco, were the most important thing in the world. The thought made Draco’s insides curl.

“DRACO...MALFOY...YOU...FUCKING...DICK...FUCKHEAD,” Harry yelled as he’d never yelled before. “DON’T think I don’t know what you did.” 

_Oh great, Potter was mad at him again_ , Draco rolled his eyes but secretly smiled. _Isn’t this always the prelude to the best sex we ever have?_

But wait, it seemed like this time was different. “Fuck you,” Harry nearly spat at him, though thankfully he was no longer screaming. “I told you, one more thing and you’d lose m—” he steadied himself. “Lose...er...your dignity,” he added lamely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco looked curiously at the boy who he had — he realized with a jolt — considered his friend. 

“Ron nearly died. He’s in the hospital wing. I know it was you,” Harry continued, picking a fight. People up and down the hall had turned to watch. 

Draco felt his knees crumble and his stomach shatter. He wanted so badly to hug Harry, to kiss him, to make him realize how sorry he was, that he didn’t mean it. _No, I can’t,_ he reminded himself sharply. _Not here, not in front of all of these people._

“Poor Weasel probably ate one too many of his Mummy’s cakes,” Draco mustered all of his energy to come up with a proper, Malfoy-esque response. “Don’t know what you’re looking at me for.” 

Harry looked as if he were going to attack Draco. Even worse, he just glared for a few more moments, then turned around and left.


	8. The Bathroom

Two weeks later, Harry had still not turned up to the Room of Requirement once. How...how... _how_ could he have been so careless? Draco begged himself. He had been there every day at seven on the dot, hoping — uselessly — to see Harry walk through the door. 

Draco was growing desperate now. He had not realized how much he needed Harry. Surely, he had other lovers who could fulfill his desires...but none of them were like Potter. None of them cared. He thought this particular fuckbuddy situation was so hot because it was forbidden. He had not realized that Potter would become his friend. 

_Were they just friends though?_ Draco wondered, but didn’t dare continue the thought. Potter — _Harry, he reminded himself_ — had tried, time and again, to get him to talk. Harry didn’t run away, even after the Katie Bell and Snape encounters. He’d offered to _help_ —

 _No, he likes the Weasley girl_ , Draco reminded himself. He had finally gotten Harry to admit it a few weeks back, through ceaseless teasing and the simple tactic of poking him in the ribs. _He can’t fancy multiple people at once, can he? Is that possible?_

Now that Draco thought about it, he convinced himself that it was possible. But nevermind that thought...whatever Harry may have been thinking before, he certainly hated Draco now. The thought made Draco’s body ache, and not in the magnificent way that Harry used to make Draco’s body ache. If only he could get that back. 

_I have to fix the cabinet_ , Draco thought. _It’s the only way to make things right._ He forced himself to get it together and continue his task. _Not long now, and it’ll all be worth it._

~  
Harry didn’t know what frustrated him most: His anger at Draco, his dick’s betrayal at keeping Draco at the forefront of its pleasure despite this anger, or the rest of his body’s guilt for not actually wanting the pleasure to stop. The truth is, he missed Draco terribly. 

_But he fucking poisoned Ron, the bastard_ , Harry would think to himself, night after night. _But he didn’t mean to. He meant for it to be a feeble attempt, like we discussed._ This allowed Harry to give his dick a few good strokes to Draco’s memory before more thoughts creeped in. 

_It doesn’t matter, he’ll never change, he didn’t care who got in the way._ Harry's hand stopped. _He didn’t even know that Ron was poisoned. He looked sorry._ Harry's groin roared again. _What the fuck is he up to now, anyway?_

Unable to get rid of his bulging erection without knowing the answer, Harry took out the Marauder’s Map and once again looked for the black dot that belonged to Draco Malfoy. It wasn’t there. “The fucking fuck,” Harry muttered to himself, rolling over to once again channel his anger into a raging orgasm — _why was he always doing that?_ — thinking of all the nasty things he wanted to do to Draco if he ever should forgive him. _But I’ll never forgive him_ , was the thought lingering on Harry’s mind as he drifted into sleep. 

~  
After weeks of looking at Draco’s dot on the map, discovering that it wasn’t there, and ejaculating his anger, Harry recognized that his behavior was not healthy. Of course, Hermione caught on soon enough. 

“Harry you’re not eating properly,” she scolded him over dinner. “I noticed that it’s seven o’clock, _by the way_. You can tell me if something’s wrong, you know.”

Harry looked at her imploringly, hoping she would understand without him saying a word. Instead, Harry muttered “I’m fine” before storming off to check the Marauder’s Map again. He was now looking at it every day at dinner — around the time he and Draco used to meet — in addition to before he went to bed. He had been satisfied to see that Draco had not been on the map at seven o’clock every day this week, since it meant that Draco had been desperately waiting for him in the Room. The thought gave Harry a jolting feeling. 

Today, however, Draco was on the map. 

~  
“Really, Malfoy? Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” Harry could not help himself from storming in. “What if I had decided to show up to the Room today, huh? Think I would’ve forgiven you if you weren’t there, patiently waiting?” He teased. He had already decided that he would cast his anger aside, just for this night, because his body could not take the excruciating pain of not being inside Draco’s for a moment longer. 

“Leave me alone,” Draco uttered, his voice cracking. “Stop following me.” 

Harry took it as a game of hide and seek. “You know I’m furious at you beyond belief...but you also know that I can’t resist for too long. And nor can you,” he smirked. 

Malfoy didn’t respond. Something was wrong. _Goddammit, is the stupid tosser really crying again?_ Harry thought. 

Mustering all of his courage, Draco turned to Harry and said, “I mean it, Potter. Get out of my way. Weasley deserved what he got. You can’t help me.” 

With one look at his enemy-turned-lover-turned-back-enemy, Harry realized that Draco was being serious. Anger — pure rage — reached Harry’s fingertips as a burst of red light came out of Harry’s wand. 

Draco fought back. Concentrating on each other’s faces as hard as they had in their dueling match in second year, Harry and Draco shot sparks out of their wands and they dipped and ducked to avoid each other’s attacks. Without even knowing what was happening, without a second thought, Harry remembered the Half Blood Prince’s words — _Sectumsempra, for enemies._

In that moment, Draco shed all else in Harry’s mind and was, once again, solely an enemy. It was as though the past several months had never happened, and they were now battling out the fight they should’ve — would’ve — had on the Hogwarts Express. 

Yet, Draco stopped abruptly. Draco was on the ground, hit hard by Harry’s spell, crying, bleeding…

“No,” Harry began, slowly realizing what he had done. “NO!” 

Draco looked at Harry with hatred in his eyes. “I...trusted...you,” he managed to mutter before fainting. Before Harry could respond, however, Snape was on the scene. Harry went numb at the thought of what could happen to Draco, but there Snape was, fixing it, glaring at him...

~  
It took a full month for Draco to leave the hospital wing, and he knew where his first stop would have to be. It was 7:45, but Harry was still waiting. 

“Look, I know I fucked up, but you didn’t have to spill my goddamn blood to prove a point,” Draco seethed.

Harry looked up from the cushion bed — _Did he make that every night while I was gone?_ — holding back tears from his eyes. “You said...you said Ron deserved what he got. I thought...we were friends. I didn’t know...what the spell would do. I’m sorry, but also, you should be sorry too.” It seemed as though Potter had rehearsed these words, as he struggled to get them out. 

“I didn’t mean what I said, Harry, really I didn’t,” Draco replied, stunned by the thoughtfulness Harry was putting into this situation. “I’m so sorry about Ron. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. We _are_ friends,” he continued. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry finally looked up and nodded. Draco took the opportunity to sit down next to Harry. 

“So why were you crying this time?” Harry broke the silence. 

Draco hesitated, then decided he didn’t have much to lose anymore. “I had a plan which had to be kept secret, but it’s been compromised. I’m trying my best to fix it, but I don’t know if I can.” He tried to be firm, yet vague. “I’m in too deep,” he added dramatically. 

“I said it before and I’ll say it again. Trust Dumbledore. He can help you. He will. _I_ will.” As Harry put his hand on Draco’s leg, Draco felt his insides stir. 

“You know, I actually didn’t come here for makeup sex...but if you insist,” Draco crooned. _Jackpot_ , Draco thought, as Harry smiled for the first time in what seemed like years. Draco took the moment to lean in and kiss Harry. “I do appreciate your offer, and I’m doing my best. You have to trust me too, okay?” 

Harry looked skeptical, but tilted his head forward ever-so-slightly in another motion resembling a nod. 

“Cool,” Draco continued. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can I top this time? I’m feeling pretty daring after a month of having no one but Madam Pomfrey as company.” 

“You can try,” Harry played back as a grin spread across his face. 

“Oh, I’ll be doing more than trying,” Draco had his answer ready. With one swift motion, he unbuckled Harry’s belt and ripped off his own trousers. His groin raged at the sight of Harry in front of him — gorgeous Harry, Harry who had forgiven him — as he lubricated himself and watched the desire erupt in Harry’s eyes. He moved his dick down to where it needed to be, but took his time brushing its tip against Harry’s — as though it could’ve been an accident, _as if_. 

Harry went wild. “I want you...inside me...NOW,” he demanded as his hips thrust into the air and his dick rose to greet Draco’s. “Fuuuck,” Harry continued as his eyes rolled back into his head. _Too easy_ , Draco thought. _I’m only just getting started._

Instead of obeying, Draco pulled back his crotch and rubbed his lubricated hands on Harry’s dick. He could not think of a more marvellous sight than Harry Potter positively _screaming_ at his slightest touch. “Turn around,” Draco demanded, though his hands were already on the job. Harry panted and fell on all fours, his eyes closed, ready to be fucked.

But Draco took his merry time. Slapping Harry’s buttcheeks with both hands, he rubbed his moist dick up and down Harry’s backside and pulled Harry’s hair. His hand slid to Harry’s front and stroked him, ever-so-lightly in the way that he knew Harry loved. Draco’s dick was throbbing now, he could not take it for much longer — 

“Ooooh,” the enemies-turned-lovers-turned-enemies-turned-lovers groaned together. Draco thought his dick was feeling freedom for the first time — there were always firsts, even during their 495th fucking — as he thrust wildly into Harry. “Guess I’m not all bottom after all,” Draco bragged. “Fuck, fuck fuck _fuck_.” He quickened his pace. 

Harry was positively dying from the weight of Draco on him, the feel of Draco’s hands in his hair, Draco’s hand on his dick, Draco’s dick in his —

“Oh my fucking god do NOT stop you fucking FUCK!!!” Harry screamed loudly as he collapsed into a heap of pillows. Seeing his beautiful conquest before him, Draco quickly followed. 

“Why haven’t we been doing _that_ the whole time?” Draco asked, taking a few breaths after his own orgasm. “God, I fucking missed this.” 

Harry was still speechless from the unbelievable banging he had just experienced. For a moment, it seemed that all had returned to normal.


	9. The Tower

As the months went on, Harry became busier and busier with schoolwork, Quidditch, and Dumbledore’s lessons. It seemed that Draco was less available as well, which Harry attributed to his still making a full recovery. He pushed the thought that Draco still had to appear like he was committing murder to Voldemort to the depths of his mind. _Draco seemed to have forgotten all about this, so why shouldn’t Harry?_ In fact, the times they were able to be together, Draco seemed positively springy.

“The air’s nice today, isn’t it Harry? Maybe we can go for a stroll when we’re done,” Draco suggested one evening.

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “A stroll? You and me? Together? In public?”

“Sure, why not,” Draco replied. “You can wear your cloak if you don’t want to be seen with me.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Harry retorted, still dumbstruck. “I thought you were the one who wanted to keep our, er, _friendship_ a secret.”

“Things will be changing very soon, you know,” Draco said mysteriously, with triumph in his voice.

“Okay then...if you don’t care to elaborate, let’s go,” Harry replied, still skeptical.

“Wait wait wait,” Draco shushed him as he edged his body closer and closer so that Harry could feel his breath on his face. “Didn’t you hear me say _‘when we’re done’_?” He smirked. “Got some business to attend to first.”

With a swift motion that became so familiar it was basically a habit, the lovers undressed and took each other.

~  
“That was, er, different,” Harry muttered when they finished, seemingly speechless. “You sure you’re okay?”

Draco smirked. “Different good?” He has to admit, he had not planned on putting so much aggression into his thrusts. It kind of just...happened.

“Different wonderful,” Harry replied, his face still full of lust. Draco’s groin churned again at the sight as his hand reached out to grab Harry’s.

“Come on then,” Draco said smoothly, careful to conceal the full force of his joy.

As the two exited the Room of Requirement together, Draco was beside himself. _Could this work...could it really work?_

“Harry, Harry!” A young Gryffindor approached, looking impatient. Draco quickly dropped Harry’s hand and resumed his usual scowl. “Er, hi,” the Gryffindor’s eyes turned from Harry to Draco, clearly perplexed, then turned back to Harry.

“Professor Dumbledore wants you in his office now,” the Gryffindor continued. “It seemed...it seemed urgent.” With a last terrified look at Draco, he left.

“Er, sorry about that,” Harry said to Draco, taking his hand again. “You don’t have to act like you hate me _all_ the time you know,” He blushed. “But, I do have to go. Let’s do this next time?”

“Habit,” Draco sighed. He only hoped there would be a next time — If his plan worked, there could be many; if not, well...he didn’t want to think about it.

“And sure,” Draco continued, hoping to leave out the worry in his voice. _This had to be the night to try then_ , he had realized. “See you Harry.”

Harry must’ve picked up on Draco’s crestfallen expression because he turned and kissed Draco with such force he nearly knocked Draco off his feet. “I’ll see you later, okay?” He stammered before running off.

“Yeah, er, good luck,” Draco responded lamely, though secretly thinking that it was he, Draco, who needed luck tonight.

~  
Hours later, Harry stumbled onto the Astronomy Tower with Professor Dumbledore in his arms. It seemed as though a lifetime had passed since he and Draco were headed out for a walk together. _Who had cast the Dark Mark?_ He thought desperately. _Who was killed?_

Hoping and praying that it wasn’t Ron, Hermione, Ginny, — _or Draco_ , a voice added — Harry hurried off to find Snape as Dumbledore had asked. 

“Expelliarmus!” Harry heard suddenly, as his body became immobilized and he couldn’t believe his eyes — 

Draco was at the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing at Dumbledore with an indiscernible expression in his eyes. Harry’s insides reacted instinctively to seeing Draco. He wanted to move, to shout, to pin Draco against the wall, to jump between Draco and Dumbledore. He yearned to find out, to explain, to do _anything_ besides stand there helplessly to watch his enemy-lover-friend corner the man he looked up to most in the world. 

He watched as Dumbledore talked soothingly to Draco, offering him the same protection Harry had offered. _Why was the stupid git not moving then? Why was he arguing back?_ Harry could only assume that Draco had to put on a show — _but for who? Voldemort wasn’t here, was he?_

Finally, finally, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Draco began to lower his wand. _That’s the first smart thing you’ve done_ , Harry thought. _After me_ , he laughed to himself, then realized that the situation was in no way laughable. _Still, Draco would’ve appreciated that dig._

Suddenly, commotion occurred. Harry saw Bellatrix rush to the top of the tower and Draco look at her in terror. 

“DRACO FUCKING PRAT MALFOY WHY THE HELL IS SHE HERE?!,” Harry screamed, but no sound came out. Bellatrix was followed by a swarm of Death Eaters including — to his horrific realization — Greyback.

Harry watched as the others egged Draco on to “do it,” still not fully comprehending what was happening before his eyes. Once or twice, Harry could’ve sworn that Draco glanced in his direction, pleading at him to help, to forgive. And then...it happened. 

~  
Nothing had gone according to Draco’s plan. After Harry had gone off with Dumbledore, Draco knew that he had just one shot at what he was about to do. But when Bellatrix, followed by Rodolphus, followed by dozen others stumbled out of the vanishing cabinet instead of his mother, he knew that all was doomed. His aunt had barely looked at him when she directed the Death Eaters towards the castle. 

Draco acted quickly. He had to find Harry. Sprinting through the castle grounds, he saw that the Dark Mark had been cast. _No_ , he thought. _Please, no._ Realizing that _savior Potter_ would obviously head towards where the Mark was, he ran up to the Astronomy Tower past the others. “Harry...”

Instead of Harry, however, he was greeted by Dumbledore. Panicking and not knowing what else to do, Draco disarmed him. It took Draco every ounce within him to not ask Dumbledore where Harry was. In case this all went wrong, and he had to go back to the Dark Lord...he could not think what would happen to him. 

As Dumbledore said all the right things and Draco resisted the exact amount necessarily — he was getting rather good at that — he looked around anxiously for a sign of Harry. _The cloak_ , he thought, _He must be under the cloak._ For a few minutes, he thought gloriously of the life he could have if he did what Dumbledore told him — all the sex positions he and Harry had wanted to try, all the _equipment_...the walks they could go on, the misunderstandings they could continue to work out...Harry was going to _suspend_ him from a poll in the Room...there was so much he still didn’t know about Harry...

But it was too late. The others had joined him, and Snape — Snape had gone and done it. And he, Draco, could do nothing but watch...watch as the greatest wizard in history fell from grace, as the other Draco — the _good_ Draco, the Draco who was funny, sexy, and unabashedly himself with Harry — fell with him. 

Chaos ensued. Looking around for a sign of Harry, Draco spotted his lover in a corner below. Harry glared at him with a loathing that had only appeared on his face sarcastically in recent months. Before he could say anything, Draco was swept up into a swarm of Death Eaters.


	10. The Goodbye

Harry couldn’t believe what had happened that night. Weeks later, as he was packing up his suitcase to return, for the last time, to Privet Drive, he still had not processed it. Dumbledore, dead, Draco, running away, Snape, the Half-Blood Prince...his head could not take it anymore. 

Walking outside the Gryffindor common room to join Dumbledore’s funeral, Harry nearly crashed into something. 

“OW! Watch where you’re standing won’t you?” He shouted. _Probably a stupid first year trying to catch me crying._

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” It was Draco. 

Harry’s heart beat and thumped like never before. “Get out of my face,” Harry spat at him before going on his way. 

Draco looked like he was in tears. “Harry, please, listen to me. I don’t have much time. I didn’t mean for that to happen, for Dumbledore to...I swear I wouldn’t have done it.”

Harry gulped. Draco _had_ tried to lower his wand...

Then Draco was kissing him — kissing him like he had never before kissed him. A fire erupted in Harry — All he cared about in that moment was the taste of Draco’s tongue in his, the feeling of Draco’s hand grabbing his hair, the familiar embrace of his lover’s arms. 

“HARRY!” Hermione shouted as she came out of the common room, looking taken aback to see Harry engulfed in snogging. “I would’ve thought...after...oh, _God_ , Harry, don't you know what today…”

Her jaw dropped. She saw Draco. “ _This_ is who you’ve been…” she started. 

“See you later, Potter,” Draco muttered alarmingly before dashing off. 

“Hermione, look, I can explain,” Harry started, looking at his friend’s disapproving face. “We were hooking up, yes, but it’s over now. I was right. He was up to something. Voldemort wanted him to kill Dumbledore. He…”

“But I thought you said Snape killed Dumbledore!” Hermione snapped. 

“Snape...Snape did kill Dumbledore,” Harry responded. “Draco only disarmed him. He wouldn’t have done it...He was lowering his wand.”

Hermione’s expression softened somewhat, but she still looked skeptical. “Harry, of course I support whomever you want to snog or sleep with, but you don’t think Draco’s really _changed_ , do you? He still let the Death Eaters into the castle.” 

“I know...I know he did, and I’ll never forgive him. He made his choice. It’s got to be over between us,” Harry’s heart sunk. Hearing Hermione say it confirmed what he already knew. 

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” Hermione was looking at Harry with pure sympathy now. “You mustn’t blame yourself. Your ability to see the best in people reminds me of Dumbled—”

“Don’t,” Harry gulped. He couldn’t take it. This shared ability is what led Dumbledore to...to… “Let’s just go.” 

~  
Draco knew that his time at Hogwarts was nearly up. But he swore he had to properly explain to Harry what had happened. After two failed attempts, he decided to try again at the funeral. This time, he made sure that Harry’s friends were not around. 

“Potter, a word,” he snuck up behind Harry after the procession. He had just been talking with the Weasley girl, who shot him a knowing look as she rejoined her fellow Gryffindors. 

Harry sighed. He had been waiting for this. “Look, I just said it to Ginny, don’t tell me I have to say it to you too,” he said. 

“Said what to Ginny?” Draco replied. “I don’t care what’s between you and Ginny. I need you to know that I wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore. I intended only for my mother to come through the vanishing cabinet, so that she would be safe when I...when I went to Dumbledore for help. I was going to take his protection. You know...come over to your side.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry felt relieved, but simultaneously alarmed. “If Voldemort found out…” 

“He already knows,” Draco replied. “The only reason I’m still alive is that the Dark Lord wants to turn me into a spy and continue to punish me and my parents. Death would be far too generous for what we’ve done.” With a deep breath, Draco added, “Plus, I don’t care what he thinks anymore.” 

Harry swallowed. Draco’s eyes had never looked more clear. “I believe you, Draco, and I wish things were different. But you must know that I can’t...we can’t...we could never—” 

“I know,” Draco interrupted. “You’ve got a mission, and I can’t help you. I just hope I’ll live to see the day when you’ve finished.” 

Harry was stunned by the level of maturity Draco was displaying. “Me too,” he replied. “I mean it. I’ll never forget this year, you know.” 

Just then, the music appeared. 

_Fight or flight,_  
_I’d rather die than have to cry in front of you._  
_Fight or flight,_  
_I’d rather lie than tell you I’m in love with you._

“Is that Peeves...Peeves singing...Conan Gray?” Harry demanded, as though Draco he would know the answer. 

“Er, no idea,” Draco responded absentmindedly. He only cared that Harry had actually believed him.“The song’s got a point though.” He winked. 

“What?” Harry reacted, not registering what this could mean. 

“Anyway, thanks for everything, Harry. Plenty of masturbation material for years to come…” Draco made a half-hearted attempt to smile. “Bye then.” 

“Bye.” 

Harry watched his enemy-lover-friend-lover-enemy disappear, knowing he might never see Draco again. It took him all his strength not to give Draco one last kiss, but he stopped himself. Watching Draco swagger away, he thought he understood the lyrics after all. This — whatever the fuck it was — he had had with Malfoy...It was certainly one for the books.


End file.
